


Out of the Blue (Uninvited)

by Lissadiane



Series: Blood Sprouts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fae Magic, M/M, accidental baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lissadiane/pseuds/Lissadiane
Summary: Five years after Stiles and Derek's arranged marriage in Somewhere to Start, Stiles and Derek are happily living out a domestic fantasy together with school, jobs, more house plants than Stiles can shake a fist at, and an adorable little apartment perfect for just the two of them. And then, something strange sprouts in the floorboards under their bed...





	Out of the Blue (Uninvited)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for SleepyBarista, who commented on Somewhere to Start with:
> 
> "Ugh. Just read this for the 3rd (4th? 5th?) time and I need a follow up. Does Stiles adjust to his powers? Does the Sheriff come to terms that his son was werewolf married because of the threat on his life? Does Stiles go to school? If so, what are their living situations? The SEX! How does that work out? Does his cousin -the new queen- ever want to contact him? Does Kira? Sorry , I got stuck and I love this story and I just.... need more."
> 
> This story does not answer these questions. Well, ok, Stiles' powers obviously have more shenanigans in store for him. The sheriff will never come to terms with it. And there's... no sex in this. Sorry about that one. BUT maybe if someone asks, I could write another little coda of their first night together or something? Maybe? Is that a thing people want? Oh god, the plants would be all over the place.
> 
> Anyway, so here's a sequel that I wrote, because when I was writing the original story, I thought it would be funny if Stiles' sprouts would sometimes have Things in them. Like, his missing car keys. A sock that had gone missing. An extra dime when he was a little short for coffee. And then... this.
> 
> So this is what I wrote. Forgive me. It's ridiculous. I'm sorry.
> 
> The title is from Someone Like You, by Adele, because that, apparently, is what Derek sings in the shower.

“I’m home,” Stiles hollers, as he kicks the door shut behind him and tosses his backpack to the floor. He can hear the shower running, Derek singing, off-key but enthusiastic, in the bathroom, and Stiles rolls his eyes fondly as he kicks off his shoes. Swinging by the fridge, he grabs an apple and takes a huge bite.

He’s in a hurry. He’s only got about eight minutes to grab something to eat, kiss Derek a few times, and dash back out the door if he’s going to make his shift at the flower shop down the street, and he can’t be late. They’ve got a giant wedding order to finish up today, and Fridays are always busy as people dash in for a bouquet on their way to pick up their dates or apologize to their wives.

Mouth still full of apple, he slips into the humid bathroom, peeking around the shower curtain and cutting Derek off mid-verse.

“Your Adele needs work,” he says with a grin.

Derek slides his hand around to the back of Stiles’ neck, leaving wet trails through his hair, and says, “Hey,” his voice low, his lips tipped up in a sweet smile. “Missed you. How was class?”

Stiles runs his fingers through Derek’s wet, soapy hair, leaving it a spiked mess, and says, “Missed you too. Got my lab back, got an A, we’ll have to celebrate later.” He waggles his eyebrows so Derek knows exactly how he’d like to celebrate, and then can’t help a stupid giggle at the way Derek’s cheeks flush.

“Absolutely,” Derek says, and Stiles rocks up on his toes and presses a sticky, sweet kiss to his lips.

“See you later, yeah?”

“Yes.” Derek promises with another kiss, this one slower, lingering in just the way Stiles likes – just the way guaranteed to make him late for work.

He pulls way, reluctant and damp, and then laughs when Derek launches back into his terrible rendition of Someone Like You.

Stiles changes quickly, tossing his wet t-shirt aside and pulling his yellow polo shirt – the one with Rosie’s Plant Emporium embroidered on the pocket – over his head. He heads out, taking the loft stairs two at a time, and hopping down the last four with a grunt.

He checks the time – he’s got two minutes to spare, sweet. He grabs his watering can, fills it up, and hums as he bustles over to the windows, which are quickly being overrun by plants of all shapes and sizes, including a few blood sprouts. 

Their apartment is small, all exposed brick and old windows, overlooking a rundown but livable part of town. It’s got a cramped kitchen, a loft with enough room for a bed, and sloped, crooked ceilings. Stiles loves all of it, but especially the windows, which flood the whole place with enough natural light that his plants thrive there.

They’re probably helped along by whatever green thumb magic Stiles inherited from his mother’s fae ancestry, but that’s just a minor detail.

“Here you go, little guys,” Stiles says, carefully watering each pot. He’s named every plant – there’s Nori the Norfolk Island Pine, Chardonnay the Grape Ivy, Malfoy the Dracaena, Steve the Philodendron, Buckingham the English Ivy, which is twisting its way up to the ceiling in an impressive display of athleticism, Barton the Arrowhead, Bucky the Candelabra and far too many spider plants to count, named everything from Leroy to Jessica to Evangeline. The bloodsprouts are all named after vampires – Dracula, Reinhardt, Edward, Bunnicula.

He waters them all, greeting them by name, and then, and he pauses when he gets to the very last plant – a strange, unidentified vine that had sprouted between the floorboards a few months ago, which Stiles and Derek had carefully transplanted into a large pot, propped up by the window.

It’s a vine, with large, glossy, dark heart shaped leaves that grows rather quickly, forming a cluster rather than climbing the walls like the ivies do. It has twisted around itself, tangling together into a knot of strong vines, and a few weeks ago, it had grown a bud, tucked in the mess of vines and leaves.

He’s taken to calling the weird plant Audrey, mostly because he has nightmares that it’ll come alive and demand to be fed, a la Little Shop of Horrors. He has scoured every plant identification book he can get his hands on – which, given that he’s a botany major, is a lot – and still can’t figure out what kind of plant he’s accidentally grown. 

He sets the watering can aside and leans closer, frowning, because he could have _sworn_ he saw movement inside the knotted vines, and if some sort of animal has crawled into his apartment to eat his precious plants, he is going to lose his shit –

But there’s nothing there. Just the bud, which has nearly tripled in size this week, it’s dark green tendrils turning yellow along the edges where it’s clenched shut. 

Stiles can’t wait to see what sort of flower is going to bloom from this weird plant – he just hopes it’s not carnivorous, or –

The bud moves, trembling on the vine, and Stiles freezes.

“What the fuck,” he whispers.

Upstairs, Derek’s singing stops and the shower turns off. Stiles barely notices, reaching carefully into the vines, gently moving leaves aside.

He brushes his fingertips against the bud, and his eyes go wide because he can feel it _pulsing_.

“Derek?” he calls, nervous.

The bathroom door opens and Derek says, “You’re going to be late for work.”

And then the bud bursts open under Stiles’ fingertips with a puff of pollen and Stiles screams.

*

“Heeeey, Dad.”

It takes approximately half a second for John to say, “What’s wrong?”

“Why does anything have to be wrong? Maybe I just wanted to call my dad, huh? Say hi. Chat. You know. Tell you about my lab, or my classes, or what’s happening down at the flower shop –”

“Stiles. Spill.”

Stiles closes his eyes, focuses on his breathing for a moment, and then says, “How was I born?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Well,” he says, very slowly. “When a man and a woman love—”

“Dad! Now is not the time!” It’s possible Stiles’ voice has gone very shrill. “Just tell me. Did anything… weird happen when I was born?”

“Weird like what?” his dad asks. “Did you come out with a puff of fairy dust and wings?”

“…Did I?”

“No! You were born like everyone else. In a hospital. With typical… childbirth-typed… things. The pushing, and the… You know. It was childbirth, Stiles, I’m sure you can imagine.”

“So… so mom gave birth to me,” Stiles says, nodding, a little hysterical. “Okay. Okay. Okay, cool. Thanks.”

“…Are you okay? Do you need me to come down there? What’s going on? It’s the stress, isn’t it? I told you, Stiles, university is tough for anyone, never mind trying to balance that and – and an arranged marriage to a _werewolf_ , maybe you should come home for a bit, clear your head. Take a break from –”

“I’m in my fourth year,” Stiles tells him, screwing his eyes shut. “We’ve been married for five. It’s too late to lodge an official complaint, Dad. Besides, it’s fine – we’re fine – we’re deliriously happy. Listen. What do you know about babies?”

“I know you’re too young to have one,” his dad says promptly. “…Why?”

Stiles turns around slowly, taking a deep breath, hoping maybe he’d imagined the whole thing, but no. No. There is still a baby, dusted in pollen, with wide, amber eyes, happily shaking her little fists at the ceiling and drooling at Derek, who is frozen in shock and horror across the room.

“I think…” Stiles says slowly, and the baby beams at him. “Derek and I… have one.”

“How the hell do you have a baby?” the sheriff snaps. “Stiles, what the hell—”

“It bloomed. From a plant. It fell out of a plant. It was supposed to be a flower but instead, it was a baby, and it – it has my eyes. And Derek’s nose. And – and Dad, I think you’re a grandfather.”

There’s dead silence on the line, and before his dad can figure out what to say, the baby _sneezes_ and it’s fucking adorable – except somehow, she ends up looking like a tiny wolf rather than a baby when it’s done.

“Oh _shit_ ,” Stiles breathes. “Dad, I gotta go.”

He hangs up. The baby barks.

He is so fucked.

*

“She’s… a wolf,” Derek says, stunned, as Stiles tosses his phone aside and presses his palms to his cheeks, staring.

“She’s a wolf fae human plant creature,” he hisses.

The baby—wolf – creature hops out of the plant pot, wags its adorably curly tail, and tumbles over to Derek. Its – her body is vibrating with excitement, and maybe Stiles can hold on to his shock and horror in the face of a werewolf baby, but Derek, apparently, cannot.

He drops to his knees, holding out one hand, and the little wolf trips over her own paws on her way to sniff him.

“Shit,” Derek says, quiet. “It’s okay, little one.”

She get back on her feet and tumbles into him, tongue lolling, and Derek picks her up gently. She dangles from his hands, tail still wagging, and Derek flashes his gold eyes at her.

Her eyes flash back and she sneezes again, and she’s a baby again, a wriggling, happy baby with Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles shoots the plant a betrayed look.

“What do we do?” Derek asks, but he’s already cuddling the baby against his chest, wrapping her in the soft, worn t-shirt he’d been about to put on when he’d heard Stiles’ scream.

“Give her back?” Stiles asks, shrill. “Who knows if she’s even real!”

Derek clutches her protectively. “Give her back to who?” he asks. “Of course she’s real!”

“She came from a plant! She’s not a real baby! She’s – she’s a cabbage patch doll!”

Reacting to the growing hysteria in his voice, the baby screws her face up and starts to cry.

She certainly _sounds_ like a real baby.

Derek _cuddles _her, his hands looking impressively big on her back as he rocks her against his chest, and Stiles stares, aghast.__

__“You’re scaring her,” Derek says, frowning at Stiles, and Stiles throws his hands up._ _

__“She’s scaring me!”_ _

__“She’s a _baby_.”_ _

__Stiles shakes his head wildly. “I can’t – I can’t do this,” he says. “I’m late for work.”_ _

__Derek calls after him, but Stiles pretends he doesn’t hear, stumbling out the door and locking it behind him._ _

__He goes to work. Somehow, he makes it through his entire shift, though he feels so numb all over, it makes wiring bouquets together harder than it should be._ _

__It’s late when he finally locks up, trudging back down the road towards home, dreading what’s waiting for him. Either it’s an angry Derek and a monster baby, or it’s a heartbroken Derek and a pile of leaves and twigs and whatever else is left after the fae magic that made the baby fades away._ _

__Instead, he walks in to find that their cozy little walk up apartment looks like Babies R Us threw up inside it. There are bags covering every available surface, as well as stacks of toys, furniture, and tiny little sets of clothes._ _

__He finds Derek up in the loft, curled up on the floor, leaning back against the bed, pushing a bassinet back and forth and staring down into it with a soft, adoring expression on his face._ _

__They are screwed. They are so screwed._ _

__Stiles risks one quick look at the baby. She’s sleeping in little pjs with foxes all over them, and her tiny ears are pointed like a wolf._ _

__“She can’t control her shift in her sleep,” Derek says quietly, not even looking up. “Baby werewolves struggle with that. She had a tail for a while.”_ _

__Stiles swallows hard but doesn’t respond, and Derek finally looks over at him, wary._ _

__“I called my mom,” he says. “She’s sending Scott and Kira.”_ _

__“Yeah?” Stiles asks, still hovering at the top of the stairs, his heart pounding. His hands are shaking._ _

__“Told me to feed her formula, sweetened with honey.”_ _

__“Okay.” Stiles takes a step backwards, down onto the staircase._ _

__“She needs a name,” Derek says, and Stiles scrambles down two more steps._ _

__“Why?” he asks. “We’re not keeping her.” Derek’s face goes stony and cold and he turns back to the baby, still rocking the bassinet. He doesn’t say anything else, and after a moment, Stiles croaks, “I’ve got a paper due Monday. I’m just gonna…”_ _

__Derek doesn’t respond or look at him or do anything other than rock the baby, so Stiles just turns and dashes down the stairs, feeling petrified and sick._ _

__He falls asleep on the couch. It’s not his finest moment._ _

__*_ _

__He’s face-down and sliding halfway off the couch when he wakes, drooling on a page of notes. Disoriented for a moment, Stiles can’t figure out what woke him, and then he hears a high-pitched coo and jerks upright._ _

__It’s Derek and the baby, and while the baby seems pleased to see him, Derek looks a little bit furious. He also looks like he hasn’t slept at all._ _

__“Uh, hey,” Stiles says, flopping back onto the couch and wincing at the ache in his back. “Morning. I guess I forgot to go to bed. So, uhm, it’s still here, huh?” he gestures vaguely at the baby and grimaces._ _

__Derek’s glare goes colder. “Yes,” he says, a bit of acid in his tone. “She’s still here. And hungry.”_ _

__“Ah.” Stiles nods. “Cool. Okay.”_ _

__Derek holds her out, like he expects Stiles to take her, and Stiles scrambles over the back of the couch with a yelp. “I, uhh, just remembered, I have to do some laundry!” he says, shrill._ _

__“You’ve never voluntarily done laundry in your life,” Derek snaps. The baby looks at Derek warily._ _

__“My work shirt got covered in scummy plant water,” Stiles lies, backing towards his discarded pile of work clothes. “I’ll just go toss these in while you feed it – uh, her. Or whatever you have to do.”_ _

__He scoops the clothes and disappears down the hall, panic still coiling tightly in his stomach._ _

__It takes him much longer to do laundry than it probably should._ _

__When he gets back, the baby is growling and gnawing on the ear of a little stuffed wolf. She looks human, though, her ears no longer pointy. Derek is mixing up a bottle over the sink._ _

__Stiles freezes in the doorway because he doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. The baby is too near the couch and the idea of getting too close makes his breath catch in his chest._ _

__He closes the door softly, watching as Derek hops over the couch, scoops the baby up like he’s been doing it all his life, and cradles her close, holding the bottle to her mouth until she latches onto it with her chubby fists and starts drinking. Derek gets a small, soft smile on his lips, and Stiles swallows hard, because he’s not used to seeing Derek look at anything as adoringly as he’s looking at the baby – well, anything other than Stiles._ _

__He edges into the room and sits on the couch, as far from Derek and the baby as he can get._ _

__He opens his mouth and doesn’t know what to say._ _

__Derek’s always had more courage, so he looks up and says, “Why don’t you start with telling me what’s going on with you?” His voice is careful, almost gentle, and Stiles can’t help but relax a tiny bit, because at least Derek doesn’t sound angry at him anymore._ _

__“We can’t keep her,” Stiles says, hesitating only a moment. “Derek, we can’t.”_ _

__Derek’s arms tighten around the baby, but he keeps his expression neutral. “Why?”_ _

__There are so many reasons, and they all tangle up on Stiles’ tongue. He screws his eyes shut and says, “Because we don’t have room. Because I’m in school and we’re both working. Because we don’t know how to take care of a baby. Because she’s not – she’s not real.”_ _

__When he finally looks at Derek again, Derek’s looking back at the baby, who is growing sleepy, her eyelids fluttering._ _

__“She looks real to me,” Derek says sweetly, and Stiles panics._ _

__“I don’t understand,” he says, voice cracking. “She’s only been here for half a day, how can you possibly already care that much?”_ _

__Derek looks up at Stiles and blinks. “Because she looks like you,” he says, like he can’t even imagine how Stiles could ask that. “Do you – do you not want kids?”_ _

__And fuck, he sounds like his heart is breaking at the very idea._ _

__“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Stiles says desperately. “You can’t get attached to that – to that _thing_ , Derek! It’s not _real_!”_ _

__Derek’s eyes narrow, and the bottle slips out of the baby’s hands, rolling onto the floor. Derek doesn’t notice._ _

__“What are you _afraid_ of?” he asks._ _

__“She’s not real!” Stiles presses both hands to his eyes, struggling to breathe. “She’s – she’s made of fae magic, plants and leaves and – and fucking magic, she’s just – soil and sunshine and magic, Derek, and fae magic has never, not _ever_ been anything good! It just hurts us, it’s bloodsprouts and, and vicious creatures living in the forest, and blood, and pain, and tricks. It’s not _honest_ and it’s not true and she’s not real, and as soon as – as soon as we’re tricked into loving her, she’ll fall apart and she’ll just be sticks and stones and then what?”_ _

__His breathing is ragged, he’s on the verge of a panic attack, and the goddamned baby is sleeping in Derek’s arms like nothing is wrong._ _

__Derek looks like his heart is breaking._ _

__“Well,” he says slowly, looking back down at the baby, stroking her cheek with one finger. “If that’s true, and if she’s only here for a little while, then I’m gonna hold her and love her every second that I can, because she’s mine and she’s yours.” He shrugs a little, looking back up at Stiles, and says, “And that’s all that matters.”_ _

__But it’s _not_ , because Stiles can’t let himself love and lose anybody else to fae magic._ _

__He pulls his knees up and hides his face in them and asks, voice muffled, “Did you name her?”_ _

__“Not without you,” Derek says, soft, and Stiles closes his eyes and breathes._ _

__*_ _

__Derek falls asleep holding the baby, curled up together on the couch, and Stiles keeps hugging his knees to his chest, watching them with wide, stinging eyes, and trying to calm his racing heart down._ _

__He doesn’t know what to do. All he knows is that he wants to run far, far away, but he can’t even look away, so how’s he supposed to run? And where would he go?_ _

__This is going to blow up in his face. In both their faces. It’s going to go so, so wrong._ _

__But he can’t stop staring at the way Derek’s arms are cradling the sleeping baby, and think that it doesn’t _feel_ wrong._ _

__Derek looks exhausted. Stiles wonders if he slept at all, or if he was up all night with the baby, and he guilt sits heavily on his shoulders._ _

__He should be helping. He should be doing _something_. What are they going to do, pretend the baby isn’t there? Call the cops and tell them that a plant gave birth to a baby on their windowsill? Abandon her on the front steps of an orphanage somewhere?_ _

__The problem is, Stiles just knows that if he helps – if he gets too close – he won’t escape this unharmed._ _

__But fuck it. He already feels harmed._ _

__The baby starts to fuss and Derek’s arms tighten instinctively, even as he wrinkles his nose in his sleep. And he looks so tired._ _

__Stiles is kneeling on the floor beside them before he gives himself time to think._ _

__“Okay,” he says, keeping his voice quiet. “Sleep, Derek. I got it.”_ _

__Derek mumbles in his sleep but doesn’t wake, even as Stiles carefully eases the fussing baby out of his arms._ _

__He’s so distracted with trying not to wake Derek that he doesn’t even realize he’s holding the baby until he sits back on his heels and the baby says, “Bah!”_ _

__Her voice is soft with sleep and her fist bumps against Stiles’ jaw. He looks down, startled, and her wide amber eyes are staring right up at him, her mouth open in a sleepy, drooly smile._ _

__“Oh,” Stiles says, swallowing hard. “Okay, okay. Hi.”_ _

__She coos at him and he sits back, landing on his ass heavily. He stares at her, unable to look away, as she blinks up at him and makes happy noises, kicking her legs and seeming quite content._ _

__“You’re probably hungry,” he tells her, and she sucks on her fist in agreement._ _

__She’s warm and soft and heavier than he thought she’d be, and Stiles is absolutely petrified by the idea of standing up with her in his arms. He’ll drop her for sure._ _

__He doesn’t know what to feed her anyway._ _

__This was a terrible idea._ _

__He puts the baby on the floor, laying her on her back and then shoving the coffee table as far away from her as he can. She seems happy enough kicking her feet and shaking her fists, so he gives her the stuffed wolf and goes into the kitchen._ _

__“How hard can it be?” he asks himself, grabbing a can of formula and frowning as he reads the directions. He can still hear the baby cooing and giggling, so he’s pretty sure she’s fine, and ten minutes later, he’s got what he thinks is a functional baby bottle, heated up and sweetened with honey, because she is part fae._ _

__Stiles drapes a blanket over Derek before kneeling beside her and she shoots both fists in the air in celebration when she sees the bottle, reaching for it greedily before he can even figure out how to get it into her mouth._ _

__He watches her eat for a moment, still careful not to touch her as much as he can._ _

__“I’m not gonna like you,” he tells her quietly, and she blinks up at him innocently. Her eyelashes are long, her eyes are the same colour as his, and she’s got Derek’s nose, and he’s so fucked._ _

__“Okay,” he says shakily. “I’m not gonna get used to you.”_ _

__She shoves the bottle away when she gets full, reaching for him with a few garbled syllables, and Stiles tries to resist for a few moments, but it’s inevitable._ _

__He picks her up carefully and she dangles from his hands, beaming at him. He thinks about putting her in her bassinet, but she’s still reaching for him, so he gives in with a grimace, and curls his arms around her. She nestles against his chest, cooing, twisting her fist in the neck of his shirt, and Stiles leans back against the couch, Derek still sleeping behind him._ _

__“I guess you need a name,” he says, quiet, letting his head fall back until it’s resting against Derek’s hip._ _

__She babbles something happily and tugs at his hair and Stiles can’t help holding her a little closer._ _

__*_ _

__There’s a low-grade panic brewing under his skin, Stiles can feel it in the tremor in his fingers._ _

__He does his best, but he doesn’t know how to deal with a baby – even a suspiciously happy baby who seems to want nothing more than to tug at his hair and babble at him. She doesn’t mind that he’s stiff and wary, that he flinches when she gets too loud, that he holds her a little too tight._ _

__It’s only about half an hour later that Stiles turns his head and realizes that Derek woke up at some point, that he’s watching them with wide, bright eyes and a small smile on his lips._ _

__“You look good with her,” Derek says, voice sleep-rough and warm, and it’s too much, too intimate. Stiles can’t deal with the way it twists up in his chest so tightly – the idea that maybe this could be real, and it could be forever, and they could keep her._ _

__“I can’t,” Stiles croaks, shoving her at Derek, who just manages to take her before Stiles is scrambling away. “I have to – I need to go. Library. Homework. You know.”_ _

__He runs from the room and Derek doesn’t bother calling after him._ _

__*_ _

__He stays away as long as he can, but when he comes back, he hasn’t gotten any of his work done. He’d been too distracted. It didn’t help that he’d forgotten to grab his books on his way out the door._ _

__When he gets home, he can hear the baby screaming through the door, and he hesitates, hand on the doorknob, thinking that maybe he should find another excuse – another reason –_ _

__But he can hear Derek’s voice, low and hoarse and just on the edge of panic, so he goes inside._ _

__The room looks like it’s been hit by a tornado. There are toys everywhere, discarded outfits stained in various colours. Cast off blankets, tipped over furniture, bottles leaking on the hardwood floor. And in the middle of it all, Derek sits with his legs crossed, cradling the baby, who is red faced and screaming, huge tears running down her face._ _

__Derek looks up when Stiles closes the door softly. His eyes are dark, like bruises, and he’s pale, tense around the mouth._ _

__“How long has she been screaming?” Stiles asks, trying not to feel guilty._ _

__“Since you left,” Derek says. He doesn’t even sound mad about it. “You okay?”_ _

__“Me?” Stiles asks, shrill. “No! I’m not okay! But I’m probably doing better than you!”_ _

__Derek cracks a small, exhausted smile, and says, “Maybe. It’s, uh. She’s got some frequencies that are pretty harsh on my hearing.”_ _

__Because Derek has better hearing. Which means it must be worse for him._ _

__Stiles is such a piece of shit._ _

__He inches closer. “Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks, and the screaming increases in pitch at his voice._ _

__“No,” Derek says, rocking her. “Changed her, fed her, bathed her, played with her, sang to her. Nothing helps.”_ _

__Stiles kneels carefully beside him. “Well, I did tell you that your Adele needs work,” he says, and Derek laughs, knocking his shoulder into Stiles’ lightly._ _

__“She seems to agree.” Derek hesitates, stroking one finger down her red cheek. “I think she missed you,” he says, and Stiles opens his mouth to argue._ _

__But maybe she did. Hell, a magical baby made of both Derek and Stiles, born from a vine on Stiles’ windowsill? Who knows._ _

__“Will you…” Derek holds her out, uncertain, and Stiles doesn’t _want_ to hold her. He doesn’t want to like her or let her become part of their lives, because he knows she won’t stay._ _

__But he takes her anyway._ _

__It’s not a magical thing. She doesn’t stop screaming the instant Stiles holds her close. But she clings to him, small fists wrapped in his t-shirt, and Stiles holds her closer._ _

__“It’s okay,” he says, quiet. “I’ve got you. Derek and I have got you. Shh.”_ _

__Derek shifts to sit behind him, resting his forehead against the back of Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles can feel him exhale, exhausted._ _

__“I’ve got you both,” he says._ _

__Derek slides an arm around him from behind and says, “Try singing.”_ _

__Stiles doesn’t sing. But the baby is quieting a bit, so he rocks her, just a little, and starts crooning Someone Like You. He doesn’t remember the melody or all the words, but he makes up lines for the ones he forgets, and he’s halfway through the second verse when he realizes that the baby’s cries have become sleepy whimpers. So he keeps going, and a few minutes later, he’s got a sulky, sleeping, sweaty baby in his arms, and Derek is mumbling, “Thank fuck, holy shit, thank you,” against his shoulder._ _

__Derek helps Stiles carefully put her in the little bassinet, and Stiles can’t look away from her. His throat feels tight and there’s still that panic running through him, but it’s different now. He’s not afraid of getting too close, of getting used to her – he’s afraid of how much it’s going to hurt when she goes away again._ _

__“She needs a name,” he says, and Derek curls up beside him, peering down at her._ _

__“Does she?” he asks, pressing his nose into the side of Stiles’ neck and inhaling deeply._ _

__“If we’re going to keep her,” Stiles tells him. “As long as we can.”_ _

__He feels Derek smile against his throat, and they argue back and forth over names for hours, and finally, the sun starts to set, and Poppy Hale is still sleeping._ _

__It’s a miracle._ _

__*_ _

__There’s a knock in the middle of the night, and Stiles nearly falls over himself scrambling to answer the door. It’s probably a neighbour, coming to remind them about the no pets policy –_ _

__“ _Dad!_ ”_ _

__It’s the sheriff, looking a bit worse for wear for having driven all through the night to arrive. He grunts as Stiles throws himself at him, hugging him tight around the shoulders._ _

__“Thank god you’re here!” Stiles cries, beaming a little manically. “Come in, come in, you know about babies, right? Help.”_ _

__He drags his dad into the apartment._ _

__Right on cue, Poppy starts howling._ _

__“What the hell is that,” the sheriff says, frowning. “You said you had a baby problem, not a puppy.”_ _

__“That is the baby!” Stiles gestures wildly at Poppy, who has wedged herself under the radiator, howling in panic, in full wolf shift, while Derek tries to coax her out. “Baby werewolf!”_ _

__His dad blinks. “Well,” he says. “Crap.”_ _

__It takes forty minutes to get her out of the radiator, and when she’s safe and secure, Derek flashes his eyes at her and startles her back into her human form. She giggles, beaming at him, flailing her little hands and drooling. She’s streaked in dirt and dust from the radiator, totally naked, and still has a tail._ _

__Babies are exhausting._ _

__“She needs a bath,” Derek says, looking like he’s about to fall over, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. “She needs a diaper.”_ _

__

__“Her name’s Poppy. We should get her a collar,” Stiles says, not thinking all that well, because you cannot put a collar and a leash on a baby, Stiles, of course you can’t – Derek has already said so, half a dozen times._ _

__Derek growls at him, flashing his fangs, and the sheriff steps between them, making grabby hands at the baby. “You all need baths,” he says bluntly, as Derek lets him scoop the baby up. “And probably naps. And I need to see my granddaughter while we figure out what the hell you two have gotten yourselves into.”_ _

__He holds her up, looking her over critically, and Stiles wants to snatch her away and hold her close and keep her safe. He can see Derek wrestling with the same instincts. But after a moment, his dad nods once and says, “She does have your eyes – your mother’s eyes. And, uh. Derek’s tail.”_ _

__“That’s… not always there,” Stiles says weakly, but his dad doesn’t seem to mind. He’s bouncing her, baby talking and making her laugh, and when she gleefully pees on him a minute later, he just sighs._ _

__“Bath,” he says, nodding, propping her up on his hip as he grabs a baby towel, a washcloth, no tears shampoo, and a rubber duck from the mess on the floor. “Then diaper. You two – sleep. We’ll figure this out when you can think properly.”_ _

__Relief crashes over Stiles so suddenly, his knees buckle, even as Derek starts to argue._ _

__“No, no, it’s a great idea,” Stiles says, herding Derek towards the loft and their bedroom. “He’s a baby expert – he raised me, and I turned out OK.”_ _

__“Did you?” Derek asks, and Stiles kicks him in the shin before they both collapse on the bed, fully dressed._ _

__Stiles is pretty sure he’s sleeping before he hits it, and Derek probably is too._ _

__*_ _

__“The weird thing is,” the sheriff says, bouncing Poppy on his knee and shaking a rattle for her. “She’s not even a newborn.”_ _

__Stiles blinks sleepily, cradling a cup of coffee. He’d gone to class, skated through the day, handed in his half-assed paper, and now he was home again, sitting with Derek and his dad at the dining room table, trying valiantly to stay awake._ _

__“She was just born like two days ago,” Stiles says, yawning._ _

__“Maybe three?” Derek adds._ _

__“Yeah, but developmentally? She’s sitting up on her own. She’s laughing. She’s smiling. She seems like she’s about to start crawling any second. I’m not an expert on baby milestones – it’s been a while since I had to deal with one,” Stiles’ dad says. “But I’d say she was at least six months.”_ _

__“How can that be possible?” Derek asks, and Stiles just lets his head fall face down on the table and flashes some exhausted jazz fingers, mumbling, “Magic!”_ _

__There’s a knock on the door and Stiles moans pitifully, so Derek goes to answer it. When Scott bursts into the room and cries, “Oh my god, she’s precious!”, Stiles does his best to lift his head and wave in a vague, friendly sort of way._ _

__“She’s the devil,” he says, and Derek huffs._ _

__“She’s not. She’s precious,” he argues, slumping next to Stiles again._ _

__“Precious _and_ the devil,” Stiles allows._ _

__Kira follows Scott inside, smirking a little as Scott scoops Poppy up and instantly starts baby talking her like the infatuated uncle he was born to be. Stiles is just glad there are more hands on deck to help with the whole childminding thing._ _

__He’s also nervous. Kira is as close as they are going to get to an expert on fae magic, since the rest of the fae have pretty much abandoned Stiles to his fate since the weird incident with the arranged marriage. They’re lucky they had Kira to call at all, since she technically should be off serving the fae court. Luckily, with the new fae queen in power, she’d given Kira the option of ending her sentence early, and Kira had taken it, mostly because she and Scott had somehow started dating._ _

__Stiles doesn’t know how a relationship with centuries-old fox fae and a werewolf will work out, but he figures it’s not his place to ask._ _

__He’s half convinced Kira will take one look at the baby and tell them that Poppy is just another cruel fae trick, or a changeling, or a baby that had somehow fallen through the window, which Stiles had hallucinated into thinking had burst from a pod on one of his strange vines._ _

__So he watches closely, but she just smiles at Poppy, and soon enough, she and Scott are both on their hands and knees, flashing their eyes and making animal noises at her to make her laugh. When she growls back at Scott and accidentally tumbles into her wolf form, Scott looks like he’s about to die of cuteness overload, and Kira giggles uncontrollably._ _

__“I thought it would be more climactic,” Stiles hisses at Derek, who is watching them just as carefully, looking like he wants to snatch Poppy up and run._ _

__Derek doesn’t say anything, but he grabs Stiles’ hand under the table and squeezes._ _

__“Jesus,” Stiles says a moment later, as Scott shifts into full wolf, wiggling out of his clothes, and then Poppy is barking and tackling him to the floor, mock growls and snapping teeth. “We’re so going to get reported to management.”_ _

__“We have to find a new place anyway,” Derek says, quiet, still watching Poppy. “Not enough space for us now.”_ _

__Stiles blinks at him and then looks around at their beloved apartment, eyes wide. They love this place, the idea of leaving it had never even crossed his mind._ _

__Poppy yips and starts chasing her tail and Stiles says faintly, “We don’t even know if we get to keep her.”_ _

__Kira turns to look at them, frowning. “You don’t want to keep her?”_ _

__“Of course we do,” Derek says quickly. “She’s _ours_.”_ _

__“But… but _can_ we keep her?” Stiles asks, biting his lip._ _

__Kira still looks confused. “Well, it’ll be tough. I mean, you’re in school, your place is kinda small, she’ll need her Alpha for a while. It’s important for baby wolves, to learn control before they make it to school age. But, I mean, it’s totally doable. People make room for surprise babies all the time – and you know your pack will help.”_ _

__“Yes we will,” Scott tells Poppy, who’s a baby again. Scott blows a kiss on her belly. “Won’t we, baby girl?”_ _

__“No, I mean. I mean, is she real?” Stiles asks, and his voice cracks. He clears his throat and looks away. “She – she came from a plant, Kira.”_ _

__“Stiles!” Scott yelps. “How can you say that? Of course she’s real, _look_ at her.”_ _

__“She came from a plant. She – she’s a changeling, or a fae magic trick, or stolen from somewhere else. The magic will fade, and she’ll just be sticks and leaves, and –” He’s starting to hyperventilate. It’s too much – trying to figure out where they’ll live, how he’ll stay in school, how they’ll make sure Poppy’s close enough to her Alpha, how they’ll take care of a baby when they can barely take care of themselves, all while half convinced that the second he starts to think this is real, he’ll lose her._ _

__Kira gets up, taking the chair beside Stiles, and squeezing his wrist. “Stiles,” she says gently. “You make life everyday with your emotions and your fae magic. It really isn’t that hard to believe that the love you feel for Derek is enough to make a special form of life all on its own, is it?”_ _

__“It’s a little hard,” Stiles admits, laughing tearfully. “It barely makes sense at all.”_ _

__His dad is there in an instant, holding him tight and saying fiercely, “Having a child never make sense, Stiles. It didn’t for me and your mom, but we did okay. No one is ever ready, and no matter how that life begins, it’s a miracle. And this is your miracle. Yours and Derek’s. And maybe it’s a little unconventional, but hell, son. I found your mom sleeping in a briar patch in the forest. Fae magic never does anything by halves, does it?”_ _

__Stiles shakes his head, holding tightly to his father’s shirt, trying to stop himself from trembling all over. The stress, the exhaustion, the uncertainty – it’s all too much._ _

__“So… so we get to keep her?” he asks, taking a deep breath and looking up at Kira._ _

__She nods with a smile and says, “It’s not the weirdest way I’ve seen a baby come into the world. I promise. She’s real, she’s yours. She might have been born of magic, but she’s made of both of you. She’s yours.”_ _

__Stiles hiccups, trying his hardest not to cry, and it’s a lost cause when Derek suddenly crushes him in his arms, shaking nearly as hard as Stiles is._ _

__“She’s ours,” Derek says, like he can’t quite believe it. “She’s ours, Stiles.”_ _

__“Yeah,” he agrees, holding on just as tightly. “We don’t know how to take care of a baby!”_ _

__Derek laughs with the faintest edge of hysteria. “No,” he agrees. “But we get to figure it out.”_ _

__“Together,” Stiles adds._ _

__And then Scott is crushing in for a hug as well, holding Poppy. “I call godfather,” he says happily, and then it’s a big, messy group hug and Poppy just coos happily in the middle of it, like she already knows this is where she belongs._ _

__The End_ _


End file.
